


The Festival of Revelations

by iamfantasticallyme



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Miscommunication, Pre-Slash, Roach Has the Brain Cell (The Witcher), time is a construct
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26481487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfantasticallyme/pseuds/iamfantasticallyme
Summary: A fun festival leads to some revelations for Geralt and Jaskier.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 180





	The Festival of Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic. Briefly proof read by a friend but any remaining mistakes or poor grammar are my fault. Nice and constructive criticism welcome.

Jaskier is having just a lovely time at this town's festival. The weather is nice, with stalls of amazing food lining the square. The performers are actually very talented for a relatively small town, which must be due to its closeness to Oxenfurt. He doesn’t even need to step in to excite the people, content to dance around before flitting back to the best part of the whole event, Geralt stood at the edge of the square convinced to come along after some protest. 

As Jaskier dances up to him, a flower crown crooked in his hair, he sees Geralt's face break into the smallest of smirks.  _ Success! _ he thinks, twirling around Geralt before he grabs Jaskier’s shoulders to stop the spinning. 

“Are you having a good time, Bard?” he asks, bemused. 

“Of course I am, Geralt! Good food, dancing, and an adorable child gave me a crown!” Jaskier continues to chatter excitedly for a few minutes. “And then the women walked out holding a goose, can you believe that GeRALT!!” he eeks mid-sentence before suddenly attempting to spin Geralt around and step closer, attempting to hide his face from whatever he sees. The Witcher moved, not by the force but really to see what the bard is so panicked about. Looking over Jaskier’s hunched shoulders, he is expecting an ex-lover, or their disgruntled spouse, but the only people Geralt saw now directly in front of him was a plump grandmother holding a small child's hand as she walks towards them. 

The witcher sees Jaskier flinch slightly as the woman's wrinkled hand tapped him on the shoulder, he could hear the bard’s heart quicken slightly but he strangely doesn’t smell of fear. He turns, his performance grin stuck on his face. 

“Excuse me young man, I saw you dancing earlier and I thought you looked just like my baby sister’s friend when she was a child. Do you happen to be related to Julian Pankratz from Lettenhove?” she asks softly. 

The bard lets out the breath he was holding. “Oh yes! I had a great uncle named Julian,” he says before putting on a frown. “Unfortunately, he passed a few years back.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that dearie, she pouted for weeks when he left for university, he was determined to be a bard,” she says before spying the lute on Jaskier’s back. “Oh! You must take after him, how delightful.” He goes to reply but the little girl tugs on the woman's hand. “If you’ll excuse me my granddaughter has had a long day, I should put her to bed. Thank you though for the brief trip down memory lane.” As the woman walks away Jaskier turns to see Geralt looking at him curiously. 

“You never say much about your family Jask, I’m sorry about your uncle,” the witcher says, patting him on the shoulder. Jaskier lets out a short laugh.

“Geralt did you really think I had an uncle who looked like me, went to the school I did, and had the same name? Silly witcher, she was talking about me.” In their almost 40 years together the bard has never seen Geralt look so confused. He studies Jaskier’s face before speaking. 

“But she’s wrinkly and has a grandchild, she must be old, how could you have gone to school with her?” 

It’s at this moment the Jaskier has to reevaluate his entire time with Geralt. He’s known since the beginning that the witcher is not the most talkative, and this especially includes anything he doesn’t deem important. Jaskier had also figured out pretty quickly that Geralt is absolutely terrible with time, far more than any other long lived person. Jaskier just figured this was put into the category of ‘not important’. As the bard continues to look at Geralt’s still confused expression, he realizes that they have never actually had a conversation about his aging, therefore Geralt must not have any idea of his true mortaility,  _ fuck. _

“Err, Geralt? I think we should go back to our room and have a talk, there's been a serious, uh, misunderstanding,” Jaskier asks, and before Geralt can get in a reply he turns on his heel and speed walks toward the tavern. Geralt has no choice but to follow. 

As he shuts the door to the room Geralt sees Jaskier open and close his mouth a few times in a rare moment of speechlessness. It takes several moments before Jaskier speaks.

“I have come to a realization. Do you know how old I am?”

Geralt quickly comes to a similar realization that no, he has no idea how old Jaskier is. Geralt both doesn’t know his own birthday and never gave it much thought anyways. Jaskier only ever declares his birthday as a way to get something, never the same day or time of year. He knows Jaskier was barely an adult when they met and after the mountain incident, he’d learned from the much deserved yelling he got from the bard that they had ‘Been friends for 22 fucking years Geralt!’ He must have taken too long in his thoughts because he was startled out of them with Jaskier speaking.

“I’ll take that as a no, both our faults really, didn’t know it would be important. I’m 56.”

Geralt looks upon Jaskiers youthful face. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m like you, and all our other long lived friends, nothing more than extra years.”

“How is that possible? You’re human.” He reaches up to his medallion, as if he could have missed 4 decades of vibrating. 

“And I think I still am, pretty sure, didn’t exactly ask.”

“Explain.”

“Well you remember the summer after the Djinn, you ran into Yennefer, I had a contest to be at and you stayed to help with something?” 

“Hmm.”

“Well, on the way to the contest there was some nasty weather, only place nearby was a temple of Freya. I asked the lovely ladies if I could stay dry inside in exchange for some of my very best love songs. At the end of my performance a very pregnant woman approached me. She gave me a cup of tea, for my throat she said, and said she hoped I had many years with the one I love.” Jaskier at this point is explaining himself mostly to the floor, avoiding looking at Geralt.

“It wasn’t until the mountain, when Yen mentioned crows feet that I realized I should in fact have those, but then, you know, everything happened.”

“Are you trying to imply that you drank tea at Freya’s temple and it made you stop aging?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“You drank an unknown magic tea from some strange woman and you didn’t think to mention that to me? I might not pay attention to the specifics but it's been a while since the mountain,” the witcher huffed.

“I asked Yen once we all made up again and she didn’t seem worried so I kinda thought it wasn’t important. Plus everyone else seemed to notice and not care so I thought you were just not mentioning it either.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes, everyone. Yen, Triss, your brothers, Vesemir.”

“Hmm.” With a final noncommittal noise from Geralt they fall into an easy silence. After 40 years this revelation doesn’t change much of their relationship. Though Geralt is happy to know he will have many more years with his bard. Wait, many years? 

“Jaskier, did you say ‘the one I love’?” he asks incredulously. It seems they are going to need a bigger conversation after all.


End file.
